


The Concept of Eternity

by saltyfeathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfeathers/pseuds/saltyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hell has more than one home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Concept of Eternity

Sam’s in the hole. Bobby’s hoofed it back to Sioux Falls for major damage control. Castiel has flown off back to heaven to take the reins. Dean sits at the dinner table of a woman and boy he hardly knows, meaningless conversations floating across the plates like a tennis match where both participants are afraid to hit the ball too hard. It’s like he’s in a vacuum, all the air and noise sucked out of his general vicinity. He’s floating far away in space, somewhere black and dark and forever.  


Outside, a street lamp buzzes and flickers. Somewhere, deep beneath layers of the nothingness Dean currently feels, recognition sparks briefly, a lighter that only flares for a moment. It was like that, when Sam- the real Sam- looked at him for the last time. That one, brief moment of connection, and then gone, into the hole, into the Pit, into the fire and sizzling and ripping of everything that you are.  


The street lamp, recovered from its brief electric spasm, is casting a muted glow onto the pavement, obstructed by nothing. And if that small part of him, somewhere far deeper and cavernous than he’s currently willing to trek, thinks that it recognizes a brief glimpse of hazel eyes and a plaid shirt, or a dumb haircut that should have been remedied years ago, he pushes it even further down, forces it under piles of nothingness and hollowness, caves in the empty grotto of his heart and smothers it so it will die and never haunt him again.  


Because that is what he will be seeing for the rest of his life. A glance here, a look over there, and his heart will try to jump, will try to shift the mess of rock and debris behind his rib cage, but it will fail, because that tall, broad shouldered guy will not be him. The one with the damn brown zip up hoodie will not be him. It will never be him.  


Dean sits at the table inside of this woman’s house, and the street lamp outside continues to light the way for no one.  


For one, brief, terrible, greedy second, Dean thinks that Sam got off easy, because if this is his life now-dinner tables and wacked out street lamps and awkward small talk- he figures that he must be the one in hell.  


But then again, maybe hell is just where Sam isn’t, and Dean considers the concept of eternity.


End file.
